Two Players; One Trophy

Will and I innocently entered the singles tennis tournament this past weekend at the Ladies Recreational Club, our local tennis haunt in Hong Kong. The tournament started with Will as the club favorite, which is a tough burden to carry. He was the number one seed and featured as the poster boy (literally) for a new evening singles tennis league - an action shot of him from a previous event was proudly displayed on a flyer promoting the league that was liberally handed out during the tournament.

My entry on the other hand, was shrouded in absolutely no fanfare whatsoever - though my hopes were high as I left the apartment at 8:00 am on Saturday to play three consecutive matches against three rather shabby players. I lost them all and thus my exit from the tournament presented itself much like my entry - with little notice at all.

Naturally, my losses were well made up for by Will's wins. Will played a match on Saturday - and walked away with an easy win. Sunday brought a tougher schedule and tougher opponents. The day began at 9:00am with a harder than expected game against an unknown Japanese fellow who though much shorter than 'Stilts' held strong and fought for every point. It proved to be a good warm up and Will walked away with an 8-4 victory (sets worked best to 8).

Two matches and two victories later Will was a sweaty mess with a tough line-up ahead. Positioned once again on center court with an even bigger crowd Will took on another Japanese player, Ryo, a regular hitting partner and Hong Kong ranked tennis guru. Ryo, though fast on the draw, wasn't much of a challenge for Will's service game and aggressive net play. He took home the win again at 8-3. The semi-final win against Ryo put Will into the final match for club champ against another American expat and new club member - Ethan.

Ethan, seven years Will's junior, had age, an ivy league degree and little else on our boy, especially in terms of charm and sportsmanship. A huge crowd gathered to watch the final match - with people rooting for their favorites (mostly Will) and cheering loudly at every hard won point. Will took Ethan down 6-4 in the first set and everyone said he was poised to win. But the tables turned unexpectedly and unfavourably for Team Willis and Ethan took the second set 6-2. The format was two sets to be followed by a 10 point tie breaker and it was obvious to everyone that Will was weak and weary.

The crowd was in an uproar - it was like watching Borg and McEnroe, Federer and Nadal or Venus and Serena. I sat on edge, biting my nails as Ethan forged ahead with an 8-5 lead. Will looked like he had given up hope. I saw money exchanged in the crowd and realized that not only were people betting on my husband but that perhaps the odds had changed. Then Will broke Ethan's serve and evened things out to 8-8. My stomach was still in knots, I felt on the edge of tears - all for a fake gold trophy and the honor of holding the the club championship title for a year - a year we wouldn't be here, and a title Will wouldn't be able to defend. Will lost the next serve taking it to 8-9 - giving Ethan match point. I wanted to sink into my chair. The crowd hung on to every second and silence filled the arena. The quiet was broken by shouts - "Come on Will" (there were a few"Go Ethans" too) as rowdy fans lifted the spirits and energy of the players. Will tossed the ball into the air for the serve - it landed inside the service box and the return went into the net. Phew. It was neck in neck and continued that way for a few points until it was 11-10 Will, and ball was in his court, literally and he nailed an ace at Ethan's face, as the crowd cheered wildly. It was his point, giving him the victory, the title of club champ - and all the glory that comes along with it - which in a small tennis obsessed club in Hong Kong, is quite a lot.

I had to work my way through a thick crowd of fans to give the champ his congratulatory kiss as all the members fawned over the new-found tennis hot-shot. "Fabulous tennis." "The best game ever." "The way the game should be played." "A new level of tennis." I even heard Clive, a true tennis fanatic say, "This is the best game of tennis I've seen in years, it's like watching Wimbledon." This coming from the guy who made his wife stay at the Bali Hilton on their one year anniversary so he could see a woman's pro-am tournament - that's how much he likes his tennis. For a tall guy who aspired to be a famous tennis player and his dotting wife, it was a day of glory. And none of it was eclipsed by the Red Sox world series victory. Not for me anyway - I'm still being congratulated on my husband's victory!

So to answer your question, who won the men's singles tennis tournament? The guy on the poster, that's who. Final score 6-4, 2-6, 12-10. Wow!

Will with his friends and opponents, Ethan and Mic Foo, before the final match

Neverland

Maserati's, Ferrari's, yachts, personal helicopters, the highest per capita rate of Rolls Royce's, that's Hong Kong, a place with lots of big boys with big toys. If living in Hong Kong is my version of Never Neverland then that makes Will Peter Pan. And 'Peter' took a trip to Saigon about a month ago. It's unlikely that my story telling capabilities will do justice to the events that unravelled during the course of our three day visit to the epicenter of Vietnam's War with America but I'll go on. For the history buffs, war veterans and baby boomers who give this entry a read, please forgive my glossed-over summary of the war. Here goes:


Saigon served as the base of the American forces during the Vietnam war and as a result suffered many casualties. Thus the city contains numerous memorials including a very graphic and powerful war museum as well as the Cu Chi Tunnels, which much like the German concentration camps, have been turned into tourist sites. Tourists can visit the Cu Chi Tunnels at one of two places - Ben Dihn (B1 for ease) which is in as-is condition since the war and Ben Duco (B2) - which has been restored. Both sites allow guests to walk/crawl through the tunnels and fire AK-47's, among other weapons that the 'evil American enemy' used to unsuccessfully take down the will and hearts of the Viet Cong. B2 also allows visitors the option of dressing as Guerrillas while touring the site. Choosing which site to visit was a bit confusing. The were both approximately 1 hour from downtown Saigon, and while the hotel could arrange a car to take us to B2, our guide book mentioned it was a bit like an 'amusement park' and not as authentic a section. Personally, I didn't care either way, I just wanted to check the box and see the site. Will on the other hand, agonized over the decision. Partly because he wanted to pay fair tribute to Dudley's efforts in 'Nam and partially because he can nit-pick over the smallest decision to his hearts content. Several times he mentioned that he 'really didn't' want to go to B2, 'it sounded lame and he wasn't into dressing up in guerrilla gear.' Fine, neither was I - and I didn't really care to shoot a semi-automatic weapon either. We talked about it in Hong Kong, then on our flight, then at breakfast on Saturday, again Saturday afternoon and after we had finally arranged for a trip to B1 (the more legit site) and once more on Sunday morning before we departed. The constant harping on the guerrilla gear had me wondering what was going through his mind but I figured he couldn't be making that mistake. No. Will wasn't thinking that tourists were dressing up as King Kong and running around a powerful war memorial that recognizes the death of hundreds of thousands of soldiers, civilians, women and children, fearlessly beating their hairy costumed chests, in 90 degree heat. That confusion was impossible. So I let it go....until he mentioned it one more time and I had to ask if he was thinking visitors were dressed in GORILLA COSTUMES as opposed to GUERRILLA WARFARE GEAR and by the stunned look on his face, I knew the answer...

(photo courtesy of BJ Scarritt)

The Last Stop was Vietnam

Waiting in line is never fun. Space Mountain during Spring Break. Mid-Vail Quad during MLK’s Birthday weekend. The White House tour with two impatient cousins under the age of 10. Tough lines all, but none of these compare to the Sunday wait to visit the Communist Crypt of “Uncle Ho”, the Father of Vietnamese freedom himself, Ho Chi Minh.

How long was this line you ask? The easiest way to answer this question would be to say it took us an hour and half, and we were moving the entire time. Two miles is my honest belief, though Heather claims without our mental faculties fully available, on account of the 97 degree heat, we’ll truly never know. No cameras were allowed near the grounds so we can’t even resort to photographic evidence. What is clear is that the line started in one part of the city, and then proceeded at the direction of sporadically placed military officials through parking lots, backyards, marching grounds, and metal detectors. At one point our section was almost taken out by a tour bus backing up, but no one seemed to notice. After that much time in the sun, your mind convinces you that what you’re doing is an important use of the precious hours left in Hanoi, and nothing can deny your forward progress. The group ahead of us spoke French, and by the end of our wait I was fluent. I grew a beard, and Heather went through 3 pairs of flip flops. It was long I tell you. The worst part is, and the greatest irony of all, the Vietnamese have zero understanding of the concept of a line. It’s like some carry over affect of Communism where everyone is viewed as one equal mass, and to order things would be too capitalistic. I can’t emphasize enough how infuriated I started to become as local after local would leave their place, walk 50 feet ahead, and then drift back into line grinning the entire time. Hey it’s their country, and we inflicted massive damage to them over a 10 year conflict, so I could rationalize it as penance. But payback really is a bitch.

The bigger question was why were we actually doing this, and to this I have no acceptable answer. After an hour and a half of miserable queu, we had 10 seconds to walk by the crypt. Apparently for some, it is a very powerful experience, whereby they are overcome with spiritual awakening upon viewing the great father. Ho Chi Minh did rally the Vietnamese people to evict the colonial occupiers, so he is worthy of reverence on the one hand. But we were operating on a much lower plane, and really were just curious how they kept his hair from falling out after 38 years. Truthfully, seeing the preserved body of a dead man made me sort of sick to my stomach. I still can’t eat soft fruit without thinking of Ho's waxy exterior.

Did I mention that we were in Hanoi before we got sidetracked on the million man march? Hanoi was the second leg of our Vietnam excursion which was done over two weekends in July with Saigon being the first stop two weekends prior. As there so often is amongst the traveling set, of which I now humbly consider myself a member, fierce debate surrounds the “best” places to visit in particular countries. One such debate commonly thrown around is whether Saigon or Hanoi is the preferable stop in Vietnam. Obviously the best answer is to see them both, but if pressed we came away with Hanoi as our clear favorite. Saigon is the commercial hub, and birthplace of the new emerging Vietnam much in the way Mumbai is for India. These are exciting places to visit, but my feeling is that the city is often times racing to keep up with the people. More sprawl, construction, and general growing pains. Where a place like Hanoi is more secure in its history, and therefore provides a clearer sense of place; its evolving, but at a much more orderly pace. We really enjoyed the French Colonial vibe with its teeming café culture, art galleries, and open green spaces. The food we found to be inferior to Saigon overall, and there was not as much “war history”, but this was a nice break after Saigon where we got a lot of that (tunnels of Cu Chi, American War Museum). The Sofitel Metropole (not to be confused with the other Sofitel in town), where unfortunately we could not book a room, is one of the more charming hotels I have ever set foot in. It’s a real colonial hold over, and has that classic feel where one half expects to see Humphrey Bogart in the corner hanging over the piano asking Sam to "play it again". Little bit nicer than our Hotel where Heather had to ask Ho Jr. to take the morning buffet eggs and "heat it again," but we had a great location in the quainter part of town so we made it work. The people in Vietnam also bear mention as they were exceptionally warm and friendly especially given what they have been through in the past 75 years. It is an interesting demographic where women occupy an almost equal role in business as men, and 60% of the population is under the age of 30.

Saigon

Art industry

French Colonial Architecture

Down time with a wax soldier at the Cu Chi Tunnels

Scooter Scary

Hanoi

Hoan Keim Lake

Lunch, dinner ... or both

A Total Bust

Those of you worried that we'd been blown away to Mainland China need not fret any longer. We're still here, staring down the face of a lame level 3 typhoon. Much like back home, the media here is all hype delivering a lot of talk about would be weather and little actual stormage. A level 3 typhoon is basically your average rainy day with perhaps a spot or two of flash flooding in the low lying areas next to the harbour. It's pretty basic and pretty boring. Will dutifully crept off to work this morning (I could see the disappointment on his face) leaving me alone in the shoebox to type in the bliss of a peace and quiet that is augmented only by the soothing sound of falling raindrops. The meteorologist in me will be rather disappointed if I'm not able to report on a real typhoon for you before the year is out.

mushrooms at market

the ubiquitous corner store

Typhoon Threat Level 1

I walked into my building lobby this afternoon, amidst sunny skies and sweltering heat, to find a Typhoon Warning Level 1 prominently displayed on a board in front of the elevator. Since Wan Dick's cleaning crew does such a thorough job scrubbing down every nook and cranny of this shiny new building on a daily basis I figured one of the cleaners had temporarily relocated the sign in front of the 'lift' while windexing its usual home and decided to investigate further by calling my ever-knowledgeable husband who is surrounded by even more knowledgeable people at the office. To my dismay Will confirmed that indeed a severe typhoon warning is in effect - with an excepted Warning Level of 8 to mount by tomorrow - that's 8 on a scale of 1 t0 10. To the transplanted Westerner this does not bear much significance except that anything above 7 means no one goes to work. Aside from a few bouts of severe stomach upset due to questionable cuisine, Asia hasn't thrown me anything I can't handle - torrential rain and gale force winds: check (Hurricane Gloria anyone?); back breaking sweat and nausea inducing humidity: not unlike DC. So looking Mother Nature in the eye and waiting to see what she brings, what's my real fear? I wonder what the Albatross and I will do while stuck inside our 800 square foot apartment for eight plus hours with a chess board and no t.v. We'll see what ensues.

Severe Tropical Storm PABUK

at 11:00 HKT 08 August 2007

(22.3 N, 117.9 E)

In Hong Kong

Some of you might be wondering if we do anything at all in Hong Kong since most of our blog entries focus on travel. It wasn't until my friend Adam Brucker (www.adambrucker.com for a good read on life in Boulder) referred to this as a 'travel blog' that we realized how we've strayed from our original intent to chronicle life in Hong Kong.

So, some local goings-on:

The 10th Anniversary Handover fireworks celebration, as seen from the Mid-Levels.

Playing (and placing 2nd) in a highly competitive, social tennis tournament.

Out with friends from the office.

Enjoying a Junk ride - a standard summertime outing which includes a handful of people, an old boat and loads of food and drink.

Jumping off the Junk

Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto

Before I get started I wanted to issue an apology to my Mother In Law Susan who violated existing FAA, SAR, and other assorted International Laws to smuggle four sleeves of her famous chocolate chip cookies for our (primarily mine) eating enjoyment during their recent visit chronicled in an earlier blog. I neglected to mention this selfless act of bravery until she was safely out of the Country for fear it could have landed her in jail. The cookies are long gone, but the memory of their savory goodness will live on forever, thank you Susan!!

As I sit in my 12th story apartment perch looking out upon the Hong Kong din with its inferno charged 95% humidified air, enveloping the soon to be displaced hunchback shopkeeper, the parked Porsche of the expatriate investment banker, and all souls in between with equally ferocious abandon, I have only one thought: Domo Arigato. You see prior to the weekend of June 16th the only placement in my lexicon for this phrase would be the brilliant 1983 Styx concept album “Kilroy Was Here” which features the hit single “Domo Arigoto Mr. Roboto”. But after 24 years not only has the mystery as to its translation been solved, but the journey which brought us to Japan for this bit of enlightenment, resulted in one of the most wonderful four days we’ve been lucky enough to have enjoyed while living in Hong Kong. One compelling enough to leave me wishing I was there this very moment.

My knowledge, heretofore, of this proud island nation had been limited to movies such as the underrated Michael Keaton smoothing over the cultural divide in Gung Ho, Bill Murray being lost in the cultural divide in Lost In Translation, and Dasuike Matsuzaka bridging the cultural divide as he leads the Red Sox to the 2007 World Series (I can’t deny it, I got a good feeling). Domo Arigato, or a formalized “thank you”, is just the first glimpse the outsider has of this divide with its ritualized social interaction towards outsiders. This treatment hardly has an alienating affect however, in fact it’s quite the opposite, you are made to feel like a guest of honor. Indeed after spending only a small amount of time there it became clear that Japanese are the cream of the crop in this part of the world. They are the only ones who both understand, and can afford, to preserve their cultural past while aggressively pursuing the future. The two blend with mutual celebration and respect as can be seen in the dichotomy of Tokyo and Kyoto, and Akasaka and Rappongi. Confused? It’s ok, just trying to flex a little Japanese knowledge on you. Although admittedly our trip merely scratched the surface, and I by no means left feeling like I understood the place, we both saw enough to decide we liked it and left vowing to return.

Tokyo and Kyoto - Nine Good Things to Know:

1. Narita International Airport is 50 miles from Tokyo. This would be like landing in Worcester if you were staying in Boston = rather large nuisance.

2. Ryokan: a traditional Japanese bed and breakfast style dwelling. You are cheating yourself if you don’t stay in one while visiting Kyoto. A trip highlight, though not for the sticker shy. We got to enjoy a traditional 11 course Japanese meal called Kaisecki which is a lot of fish and local veggies, don kimono’s, and sleep on floor mats. Bonsai!!!

3. Cabbies wear white gloves in cars with white linen seat covers. One could probably eat sushi off the back seat, I say go for it. You will need to bring directions written in Japanese with you as Jeevsi-san won’t speak the mother tongue.

4. The only ATM’s that will accept your filthy Western ATM card is Citibank. But unlike its adoptive step cousin the Philippines, Japan does understand the concept of a credit card.

5. If at all possible, try to travel with a blond girl, they’re catnip to the average Japanese male, and make getting directions a lot easier.

6. The street signs in Tokyo do not have names, and many of the hotel lobbies can be located halfway up a building. So don’t get frustrated if it takes you 25 minutes to find your hotel after being dropped off at it. It took us 30.

7. We thought the Japanese gardens were cooler than the temples and none better than Kyoto which was the only major city not bombed during the war

8. Japan is full of fun little technical superiorities that are basically useless, but have great "wow" appeal. No where is this more apparent than in the bathroom where almost all the toilets we encountered be they public, or private came with a panel that controlled a heated seat, and two different bidet settings for male or female (didn't really get this). The other feature we came across was a mirror which didn't fog over when you took a shower. Totally useless, but totally cool.

9. The trash truck crews are something to behold. They are a model of team work, committment, and hustle matched perhaps only by the Fenway grounds crew during the seventh inning stretch. It points to a larger social phenomenon in Japan where people take pride in whatever they do, and go unjudged. I could be naive here, but it seemed real to me, and I only wish people back in the States understood better the working class hero.

A clear day and rare view of Mt. Fuji -- if you squint you can see the white peak to the right of the tower.

A quaint side street in Asakusa

The bullet train, in action

The unrivaled Japanese garden

Kimono's and Kaisecki cuisine in Kyoto

Thailand - June 10, 2007

It's hard to believe an entire year has passed since Will and I wed last June. To commemorate the 365 days we've endured as a married couple, we packed our bags and headed to Thailand for a magical weekend on the beach. Our four days were spent soaking up the sun, enjoying the surf, and largely reminiscing about our wedding...we recalled some of Father Flynn's outrageous behavior, how we lucked out with the weather, the moves we bootlegged from Drew Lachey on Dancing with the Stars for our first dance, the lovely toasts given by family members, all the non-stop action on the dance floor and how we wished the night had never ended. Despite not being able to live forever under that enchanting tent on the Hill-Stead lawn, the past year has been beyond expectation.

For those of you considering a honeymoon or vacation in Thailand all I can say is book as soon as humanly possible. The Thai's are some of the most hospitable people I've ever encountered - kind, sincere and friendly, they are perhaps Asia's greatest hosts. If you enjoy beautiful stretches of wide sandy beach, warm clear ocean water and coconut green curry then you're in for a real treat. Unfortunately our pictures don't tell the full story. This is a rare instance where the images I saw before going and those I took while there do little justice in translating the full serenity and beauty of the area.

June 10, 2006

June 10, 2007

Our First House Guests

Heather and I live in an 800 square feet apartment. As a point of reference as to what this means, a tennis court is about 2,400 square feet. So it’s safe to say our place is about the size of two service boxes. While playing tennis for the University of Richmond I was known as the “albatross” for my ability while at the net to reach across both service boxes with my outstretched racket to snare passing shots. Why is this relevant? Well because for 14 days in May we welcomed another albatross, my father in law John, along with my mother in law Susan to our home. That’s a lot of bird for our little nest. I’m not going to lie, sometimes it’s a lot of bird just having Heather around. Was I concerned we might have the makings of a Hollywood romantic comedy where the new husband alienates his in-laws by making outrageous comments about the effectiveness of George Bush’s foreign policy, only to win them back by letting them sleep in his bed? Let’s roll the tape to find out…

Let the record show that before we arrived we received exactly 11 requests from friends and family to serves as hosts while in Hong Kong. After four months we had begun to wonder whether we were ever going to need the additional set of hand towels Heather bought the fourth day we were here. When John and Susan walked through the front door I felt like my own parents were arriving; it was exciting to see some familiar faces again. We had a busy two weeks expertly lain out by Heather, and we were all eager to catch up, and experience taking some sites in together.

So it was that after letting Susan and John catch up on their jet lag for two days…..we got back on a jet to Beijing. While on the Dragon Air flight there we all discovered that though John and I are the same height, he in fact has longer legs. His knees were in his chin, mine were only in my chest. God bless “chicken class”, but hey, at least the sodas were free. On the drive from the airport to the hotel it became clear that Beijing is on a major public relations blitz to get ready for the Olympics’. Road signs are being changed to add spelling using Roman lettering (called pin-ying), trees are being planted at a staggering level, spitting in public is now banned, and everywhere you see cranes building new roads, train tracks, and office buildings. The new Olympic stadium is one of the most impressive structures I’ve ever seen. I personally liked Beijing much more than I thought I would. It’s sprawling, but is organized around a well thought out system of roads with decent zoning. It’s an interesting blend of Chinese and communist flavors with first rate food and accommodations. There are colorful markets where the vendors seem to have as much fun bargaining as you do. Who doesn’t love being called an “evil man” for insisting on $3 instead of $4 for a silk tie? Perhaps the greatest moment however, occurred in the Forbidden City when a group of Asian tourists asked John if they could be photographed with him – guess it was the long legs. Acting like he’d been there many times before, John happily acquiesced. Just as I thought I was going to be left out of the fun, I was approached by a young Asian family. In a confusing and awkward and humbling moment, the father handed me their daughter who wasn’t really that small. I felt like I was saving a refugee from the Tsunami, and I’m not sure who was more confused, me or the kid. Pantomiming that he wanted to pose with me while I was holding his daughter, and his wife video taped the entire affair, I realized my 15 seconds was ticking. Unfortunately Heather did not manage to get a picture of the episode, but when our guide told us they wanted our pictures only because they thought our noses were “big and funny looking” I didn’t mind as much. No one said fame was easy.

After blitzing through the Forbidden City, ancient Hutong neighborhoods, Great Wall, Summer Palace, Silk Market, Pearl Market, and Kentucky Fried Chicken we were ready for the “rural and pastoral” retreat of Yangshou. Located in Southwestern China due North of Vietnam, Yangshou delivered as far as its scenic beauty, but fell short on its cultural charm. After two days there we had the impression that Western standards of the tourism industry have not left the big cities in China yet. Perhaps unfair to use Western style tourism as the standard of excellence, but I’m sorry to say that, though I can’t speak to how accommodating the Chinese were before Communism, they are absolutely clueless today. Don’t go to China looking for Cape Cod or the Catskills, for when it comes to providing an undisturbed, authentic, quality experience they simply don’t “get it”. Heather saved the experience by getting us moved from the decrepit hotel where our travel agent Maybelle (we should have known never to trust a Chinese travel agent named Maybelle) had originally booked us to a place where we were reasonably sure rodents weren’t living under our beds. We actually ended up having an enjoyable time, despite the accommodations, as we lounged poolside, took a bamboo raft ride down the river, and watched John buy half the art in the hotel gift shop – for which he got a great deal, it should be noted.

On the way back to the airport we spent the day in Guilin which was notable for the rate with which the government was making efforts to transform it from an agricultural village to a tourist hub. The scale and depth with which workers were going at these civic projects is not possible in a democratic state. Taxpayers simply would not stand for it. We watched as a four lane road – seemingly to nowhere – was being built. The road had sidewalks for bicycles on either side that had to be 15 feet wide which were being laid with beautiful granite slabs mined from the nearby hills. The damn sidewalk was nicer than any patio I’d ever eaten burgers on, and the road was in the middle of nowhere. Our guide explained to us that the government was going to be “encouraging” people to move to this now empty part of town. The country’s increasing wealth is quickly transforming former agricultural and industrial centers into tourist hubs, but until they figure out what tourism means, I would stick to the major cities in China.

Of course the beauty in visiting a place off the beaten path over here is that when you get back to Hong Kong, it REALLY feels like home. So our first night back we all piled into a booth at Aqua, a trendy spot overlooking the Hong Kong skyline that specializes in Italian food. No better way to cap off John and Susan’s stay, and though we don’t always see eye to eye on our politics, this was one trip that had a Hollywood ending.

I love my Mom and Dad; I don't love mainland China

Everyplace I’ve been this year has had at least one redeeming quality, that is until I visited China. Okay, so maybe that’s an understatement (most places have had tons of great qualities) and an overstatement (China wasn’t totally miserable)…but not by much. My parents deserve lots of credit, for this particular adventure was their vacation. They endured the very long flight to Asia to make sure Will was taking proper care of me, and after stopping in Detroit and Tokyo, landed in Hong Kong. My Dad wanted to see China, and who could blame him, it’s full of a fascinating history and lore. His hit list included Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City, Summer Palace and Great Wall – a worthy who’s who of the country’s cultural monuments all in and around Beijing. Then I enter picture, along with my travel planning skills (you recall the Philippines blog entry) and you get the second part of our trip, two and a half days in Yangshou, a ‘picturesque’ town on the Li River in the southern Guangxi Province. Oops.

There were parts of our trip that were wonderful – and most of them centered on Beijing which captivated all of us. I got to see one of the seven wonders of the modern world, with my parents no less. We lucked out with beautiful weather - sunny, clear days which afforded great views in what can be a typically harsh and polluted environment (word has it that they are cracking down on factory emissions in preparation for the 2008 Olympics.) I was able to practice my Mandarin. We involuntarily visited a government run store and learned how silk was made, which was surprisingly interesting. And not all the food was terrible. One restaurant we visited had delicious Sichuan fare. Our chicken dish was so tasty (and spicy) that we could only assume the great flavor came from all the chicken parts that were used in its making including the head (beak included) and feet which were included in the serving dish.

Yangshou was stunning; a panorama of lush karst hills sprinkled among rice paddies and dotted with mist and clouds. It’s the classic Chinese painting in real life and a setting that has inspired artists for centuries. Its position on the Li and Yulong Rivers adds an additional element of natural beauty as well as a plethora of water oriented activities including river cruises, tubing and raft rides. The town is a playground for activity and sporting enthusiasts who enjoy the area for not only its scenery but also its great biking, hiking, rock climbing and water sports.

Vendors, downtown Yangshou

Rafting along the Yulong River

So what didn’t I like about China, as the above sounds pretty good. Well here is a brief list: the billions of people (it didn’t help that we visited over a holiday week and the crowds were horrific); the MSG – think of syrupy, hot pink sweet and sour pork; a lack of sophisticated tourist infrastructure outside of the major cities and no concept of customer service or what is necessary when being a host to international travellers.

What I realized in the end was that I was glad I made it to China; it piqued my interest in Chinese history while simultaneously squelching what can often be an unrelenting desire for extended travel in a place I’ve just visited. The trip was a great bonding experience with my husband and parents and though John and Susan were a bit squeamish about Yangshou when we first arrived, they agreed that the magnificent limestone hills were worth the visit. The final conclusion being that Beijing is a beautiful city resplendent in culture and history, and I'd like to go back, while Yangshou possesses unequivocal natural beauty … and it’s okay to visit a place once and leave with no desire to ever return.

Big Red

Big John among a pack of locals who requested to have their picture taken with the white giant (note the peace sign, very popular.)

Tiled roofs, The Forbidden City

Mao

Snapshot Laos

While we continue to twiddle our thumbs and tap the key board trying to finish our interesting and thoughful commentaries on Laos, I thought I'd throw up some images we captured during our trip to this beautiful country a few weeks back.

Wat Po That Luang - The National Symbol

The Patuxay - Laos' version of the Arch de Triomphe,
which was built using U.S. cement meant for an airport

Their description of the Patuxay - evidence of a country in need of a tourism board

Settha Palace Hotel, Vientiane

'Tuk'ing a snooze

Our bike group in Luang Prabang.
Note background which shows active slash & burning of farm land

Beautiful waterfall/Swimming hole providing much needed relief after several hours of biking

More trouble on the dirt roads where Will's muscle's come in handy and I man the camera

Fragipani trees in front of a temple, Luang Prabang

The mighty Mekong

A ride on Nelly during the first day of rain in six months...fun or not fun